


when the dust blows over

by QueenCamellia



Category: kimetsu, 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Like, Manga Spoilers, The ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24590923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCamellia/pseuds/QueenCamellia
Summary: [KNY ENDING SPOILERS]Proper closure for the characters.
Relationships: Agatsuma Zenitsu/Kamado Nezuko, Kamado Nezuko & Kamado Tanjirou, Kamado Tanjirou & Rengoku Senjurou, Tomioka Giyuu & Urokodaki Sakonji
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	when the dust blows over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hazel0217](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel0217/gifts).



> Because following the great-great-(great?) grandkids for an epilogue didn’t feel fulfilling enough for me.

“Over here,” Senjuro says quietly. It’s a quiet evening; only the sound of a nearby river fills the silence that feels all too oppressive.

A gust of wind blows past them, the autumn breeze carrying the underlying scent of Senjuro’s sorrow. Even if his skills may have dulled a bit during these past few weeks of recovery and peace, few things escape Tanjirou’s senses.

Senjuro stops before a glade; in the center stands a stone marker. Though it’s a cold autumn night, Tanjirou could swear he feels the air grow warmer.

“Thank you, Senjuro-kun,” he says, and the boy bows his head respectfully.

“Thank  _ you,” _ Senjuro murmurs. His breath briefly catches in his throat, but he pulls himself together remarkably quickly. He clarifies, “Thank you for fulfilling my brother’s dream. I’ll...leave you be for a bit.”

He pads out of the glade, leaving Tanjirou with only the gravestone and the surrounding wildlife for company.

Tanjirou hesitates. What can he say? What should he say?

Coming here had felt right at the time: though many others cheered and celebrated Muzan’s death, Tanjirou—as well as the other demon slayers who’d been on the front lines—couldn’t find the heart in him to feel completely glad. Even Nezuko’s transformation (for which he’ll always be grateful to Shinobu-san, Tamayo-san, and Yushiro) hadn’t been enough to lift his spirits. 

Yes, they’d won—but at a heavy cost.

Too many of his friends...moreover, too many good  _ people _ had died for their cause, and Tanjirou’s nights are haunted with regret and overwhelming guilt. __

If he had been a little faster, or a little stronger, could he have done something? Saved someone? Had it not been for Kanao, he could’ve killed even more of his friends (and that thought is so uncomfortable that he tries to repress it, as much as Kanao and the others try to get him to talk about it).

What can he say?

What should he say to Rengoku-san, who’d died so early on, who he and Giyuu-san had avenged. (Tanjirou tries not to think about how Akaza seemed to have unspoken stories and regrets himself, how he’d essentially given them the victory instead of coming back to finish them off.)

Finally, with one choked sob, Tanjirou stumbles forward and collapses on his knees, bowing his head and gritting his teeth. His arms tremble. Tears fill his vision, making it hard to see, but he inches his head upwards to look at the gravestone.

“We did it, Rengoku-san,” he says, voice trembling as he tries for a smile. “We did it.”

It dawns on him now, the words that he should say.

“You can rest easy, now,” he says. “Thank you.”

_ (Thank you for guiding me. Thank you for dedicating your life to helping others. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for helping me live to see the day my sister became human again.) _

* * *

Urokodaki Sakonji is back at his hut.

There are plenty of better options: Tanjirou and Nezuko had even offered for him to live with them in town, but he’d declined. There’s too much history associated with his home—too much for him to ever let it go.

(“If you want to see me so badly,” he’d said grumpily at the time. “Then you’d better keep yourselves in shape so you can come up and visit.”)

It’s a peaceful life, not much different from how he lived when he didn’t have pupils. Urokodaki’s long grown tired of action and movement, and this quiet life suits him just fine. He’s not keen on entertaining visitors every other week.

That being said, when someone knocks on his door and Urokodaki’s met with the face of his long wayward pupil, he doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a hug.

“Giyuu,” he says, and the boy (because they’re all children, and it saddens him to think about how much they’ve gone through at such a young age) rests his head against his shoulder. It’s been far too long, and while his pupil’s grown a bit taller than his training days, he’s still the same lost boy Urokodaki had met years ago.

They stand there for what feels like forever, silent.

To Urokodaki’s surprise, Giyuu is the one to break the silence first.

“It’s over,” he says. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s over,” Urokodaki confirms, pulling back slightly so that he can grasp his pupil by the shoulders and look him in the eye properly. “You did well, Giyuu.”

Vulnerability flashes across Giyuu’s face before it’s smothered by his usual nonchalance. “Sorry,” he says. “That I didn’t come by earlier.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Urokodaki understands. He was a demon slayer once, and he’d lost far too many people himself. “Why don’t you come in for tea?”

They settle down quickly enough, seated across from each other just as they used to when they were student and master.

Giyuu’s silent again; he’s never been one for idle chatter, and Urokodaki knows that he’s probably struggling to find the words to properly express the multitude of emotions he must be feeling. That’s why Urokodaki speaks first.

“When I took you and Sabito in...when I took all of my students in,” he starts. “It was because I saw potential. I knew you could do great things.”

“Sabito died,” Giyuu replies flatly, and if Urokodaki didn’t know him better, he would’ve taken the reply as bitter. Instead, he just hears regret and grief.

“He did,” Urokodaki acknowledges, and his heart throbs with pain. He will  _ always _ remember those children, each and every one of them. “But I think that if he were here, if any of my students were here, they would tell you that they were grateful.”

His pupil’s gaze is trained on his cup of tea.

“Giyuu,” he says sternly, his tone of voice immediately causing the pillar to look up. Urokodaki’s voice softens. “I’m proud of you.” 

Giyuu opens his mouth to protest, but Urokodaki silences him with a lift of his hand.

“Thank you for finishing what I couldn’t,” he says. “All of us demon slayers set out with the goal to end Muzan—perhaps fueled by less noble reasons, but nevertheless, with the ultimate purpose of establishing a safer world for everyone.”

Urokodaki lifts his tengu mask for what feels like the first time in ages. He knows what Giyuu sees—a long, ugly scar running across his upper face, and a wide smile. “You did that.”

“It wasn’t…”

“I was a Water Pillar, once,” he says. “I’d met my predecessor once before. She’d told me that she was aware she’d most likely die within the next ten years. I’d asked her why she kept fighting.”

His voice turns a little wistful. Urokodaki even chuckles, remembering the people who he’d fought alongside years ago. He misses them—but he’s sure they’re at peace now, and that eases his mind. “She told me that even if she couldn’t be the one to win, perhaps one of the children she saved would be.”

Giyuu’s silent, but his gaze no longer turns to the floor. He’s listening.

“You’ve done us all proud, Giyuu,” Urokodaki tells him. “And I couldn’t be any prouder.”

That breaks the last of Giyuu’s mask, and as tears roll down his pupil’s cheeks, Urokodaki reaches out to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he repeats. His voice is suspiciously choked up. “Thank you.”

* * *

“Kanao!”

“Zenitsu-san,” she greets. She blinks, then nods at the girl trailing behind the blonde demon slayer. “Nezuko-san.”

“Thought we should stop by before heading over to Gramps,” Zenitsu explains—though Kanao hadn’t spoken much with him in their early days as demon slayers, they all had grown closer after the wake of the final battle. She eyes him, trying to see if he’ll be alright visiting his mentor with only Nezuko for company, but Zenitsu seems  _ better _ than a few months prior, back when both he and Kanao had been wrecked with grief and guilt.

“Zenitsu-san’s trying to help me remember everyone,” Nezuko adds before Kanao can ask about her presence. “He’s been a really great friend.”

Huh. Memories of Zenitsu’s not-at-all-subtle cooing over the girl flash through Kanao’s mind, but when she glances at him, the boy shakes his head quickly. It’s none of her business, anyways, so Kanao doesn’t bring his (former? current?) crush up.

“Come in,” she says. “We’ve just finished remodelling.”

She leads them past the much-better-equipped clinic rooms and bright guest rooms, bringing them to the main living area. They’ve been fixing up the Butterfly Estate to function as an inn and a clinic; without demons to worry about, there’s less need for medical attention, so they’ve repurposed parts of the mansion.

Zenitsu’s eyes land upon the butsudan, of course.

“So it’s finished,” he says, though his voice trembles a little. “Shinobu-san looks so pretty.”

“Though he complained, Yushiro-san was happy to help,” Kanao says. “We got him to draw one of Kanae too.”

She’s of course referring to the portraits of her sisters, placed beside each other. It sometimes hurts to look at them: both look lifelike, though Shinobu’s expression is a bit more accurate (no doubt a result from Yushiro’s many weeks spent with her sister). Still, initial pain and longing aside, it’s comforting to have them watching over her.

“Nezuko-san,” Kanao says, gesturing at them. “Meet my sisters.”

Nezuko takes the incense Zenitsu offers her, lights it, and bows at the portraits. “Thank you for looking after everyone,” she says to them. “I...thank you for giving so much of yourselves to give us this future.”

Even though Kanao’s said similar things herself and she’s had time to mourn (even before Shinobu had died, she’d been mourning), it still feels like a punch in the gut.

“My brother’s told me some stories about Shinobu-san,” Nezuko says, turning to Kanao. Her gaze is solemn, but bright: Kanao can see how she and Tanjirou are related. “Zenitsu-san and Inosuke-san have, too, but...can you tell me more about both of them?”

It takes Kanao a moment to respond. “Of course,” she says roughly. “I’ll prepare some tea.”

As she hurries off to the kitchen, she hopes her sisters can see them. 

_ (We’re okay, _ she wants to tell them.  _ We’ll be okay, so please be happy. We love you.) _

There’s another thought--more selfish, less kind...but both her sisters and Tanjirou had pushed Kanao to act upon her own feelings.

Wistfully, she smiles.

_ If there’s such a thing as another life,  _ she thinks,  _ I want to be your sister again. _

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Tanjirou wakes up with tears running down his cheeks.

“...a dream…?” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling fan. The memories of his dream are faint—it’s as if they’re  _ right _ out of his reach and if he just tries a  _ little _ harder, he can grasp them—but the emotions he’s feeling are more than real.

“Big brother,” calls Nezuko from downstairs. “It’s time for school! We’re going to be late, so hurry up!”

With a groan, he slides out of bed. 

Tanjirou goes through the motions of preparing for a new day methodically, his mind preoccupied with that dream even as he slips on his school uniform.

“Come on,” Nezuko says, tapping her foot. “Takeo and Hanako already left a while ago like good kids, though Shigeru and Rokuta just did. You’d think their big brother would set a good example for the rest of us. Why’d you wake up so late today? Usually it’s me who has a hard time waking up.” 

He ignores her question entirely, too focused on the names she’d said.

“Takeo?”

“Yes…?”

“Hanako, Shigeru, and Rokuta too…?”

“Yes,” Nezuko says slowly. “They’re our siblings. You okay, big brother?”

“Where are mom and dad?”

“Papa’s off at work, silly,” comes a voice from the kitchen, and Tanjirou doesn’t know why he starts to tear up at the sight of his mother. “Now, take this snack and get running, you two. I don’t want to hear you were breaking the rules  _ again,  _ Tanjirou.”

“Of course, mom,” Tanjirou manages.

“Tanjirou, come on,” Nezuko groans. “Or I’m leaving without you.”

“Right.” He glances at his mother again. “Love you, mom.”

“Love you too, sweetie. Now, hurry up!”

He doesn’t make it to the school gates in time; Tanjirou had to wave his sister goodbye, after all. He dashes past the Shabana siblings (both of whom glare at him) and literally  _ climbs _ over the fence. Luckily, Tomioka-sensei and Zenitsu are at the gates today; the P.E. teacher has never really cared about his tardiness (though sometimes he might chase him with his kendo stick because of Tanjirou’s earrings), and Zenitsu’s too nice to report it.

Tanjirou may be a repeat offender when it comes to coming to school late, but he’d never skip school; there are too many people he appreciates here, both students and staff.

“T-T-Tanjirou-kun, your uniform!”

“Sorry, Zenitsu! Please excuse me just this once!”

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that!” calls Zenitsu as Tanjirou runs into the school building.

“Ara, ara, getting into trouble already, Tanjirou-kun?”

“Senpai,” Tanjirou greets as he turns the corner. “Putting up posters for Kouchou-sensei again? Won’t Tomioka-sensei scold you?”

“Maa, Tomioka-san knows better than to do that!” Shinobu giggles, waving off his concern. “Anyways, you better hurry. I noticed Shinazugawa-sensei seemed in a pretty bad mood.”

Tanjirou shudders at the name. While his math teacher may be kind with Genya—Tanjirou’s friend and Shinazugawa-sensei’s younger brother—he doesn’t pull his punches.

“Though you do have Rengoku-sensei first, hmm…?” Shinobu ponders. “My, my, what would you do without him and Kanao covering you?”

Tanjirou winces at the thought, then glances at the clock that’s hung in the middle of the hallway and panics. Rengoku-sensei’s patience only goes so far, after all. “Sorry, senpai, but I have to go. See you!”

Shinobu’s quiet laughter echoes in the hallway as he rushes off.

He skids to a stop in front of his classroom; even though he’s been coming to class for the past four months, for some reason, a sense of anticipation (and perhaps—trepidation?) builds in him. 

_ Why is he feeling so nervous all of a sudden? _

With a deep breath, he pulls open the door and greets his class (his classmates, his friends, his  _ comrades) _ with a smile.

“Sorry I’m late!”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when the ending for KNY came out, but I forgot to publish it (lol)
> 
> I felt like the epilogue was so, so unfulfilling; why didn't we have proper closure for the characters we followed and loved? Why do a modern au...but not use the actual characters (the kny gakuen au that gotoge had already been establishing???)?
> 
> Anyways, writing this felt super cathartic!! Despite the anticlimactic ending...and character development...I love KNY. I loved the characters, and I'm glad that I wrote this.


End file.
